“I want to be a cowboy, but only long enough to barge into a saloon and bellow, "Who's the yellowbelly that stole my happy trail?”

“I rode my horse to the saloon, but it was out of business. The cowboy I spoke with said the bartender served the saloon’s last drink on March 5th, 1882. Guess I shouldn’t have taken so long to shower and get ready. Ah, but that’s life, no?”

“Never a horse that can’t be rode and never a rider that can’t be throwed. (I’ll pass this off as my own, but I really stole it from my father, a cowboy and rodeo rider in his younger years.)”

“Happy the man who lives long enough to acknowledge his ignorance”

“I followed the trail out of the room, invigorated by the possibility of reinventing my own body. The meaning was mine, as long as I was with those who had the vision and vocabulary to understand my creation.”

“Did I ever tell you my pet peeve?'No,' I said.People who dress up their pets to look like Little Lord Fauntleroys or cowboys, clowns, ballerinas. As if it's not enough just to be a dog or cat or turtle.”